


Fun, Phobias, and Falling in Love

by chrystal896



Series: The Wonderful World of R [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - Ian Fleming, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phobias, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:00:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2004939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrystal896/pseuds/chrystal896
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>R has a phobia. Bond is determined to find out what it is. Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the next installment of The Wonderful World of R! If you haven't read "In Which Q Meets R" you probably should as R and his relationship with MI6 won't make a whole lot of sense otherwise. Standard Warnings: I don't own Bond, unfortunately. Still don't have a Beta and I'm still unfortunately not British so if I misuse words/phrases/or ideas it is unintentional. 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!

Everyone had something they feared. Some people feared dying. Others feared death. 00s were an exception. They were trained not to fear anything. 00s were what most junior field agents inspired to be.

“So why the desk job?” Bond asked R one morning after discovering they shared a similar hideout of an upper roof of MI6. Minion Dave had pointed R toward that door one morning when he’d been desperate for a cigarette. It wasn’t long before he realized it also tended to be a favorite haunt of the 00s.

“Field work isn’t for everyone,” R said unknowingly parroting something Bond had said on more than one occasion.

“I’ve seen your range scores, you’ve got the skills for it,” Bond countered watching the stream of smoke from R’s cigarette disappear in the bitter wind.

“Most of them,” R allowed, taking another drag and leaning his head back against the cold stone.

At that, Bond arched an eyebrow and tugged his coat a bit closer against the chill. “Do tell,” he said smoothly, flashing a charming grin.

The two had met multiple times over the last several months in the rooftop hideout. By this point, R had worked for Q-Branch 8 months. After becoming “Chief” of the minions, things had eased considerably. It hadn’t been hard to pick back up on the flirting banter that they’d started during that first interview. Any time Bond was in town, he usually ended up in Q-Branch, either deliberately trying to send Q around the twist or verbally sparring with R.

Bond eyed him before nodding knowingly, “what was your phobia?”

Startled, R looked up at him.

“Come again?” he asked feigning ignorance. 

Bond just shot him a look before turning his gaze back out to the skyline. “Some people can’t get past the phobia tests.”

R waved a hand noncommittally, “Oh, I got through them. You can check the records.”

Tilting his head, Bond considered that carefully. “You know, if you’d wanted to convince me, you shouldn’t have told me to check the records. You forge records on a daily basis. Which one did you alter?”

Considering Bond out of the corner of his eye, R finally smirked. “As if I’m just going to tell you. You’re going to have to try better than that. You’re supposed to be good at discovering secrets, aren’t you?”

Bond shook his head with a smile. “You really have this thing with challenging 00s, don’t you?”

“Somebody has to keep you on your toes. Wouldn’t want you to get soft,” R shot back, stubbing out his cigarette against the wall.

“Besides, you know you love a challenge,” flashing him a cheeky grin and a wink, R headed to the stairs. “Good luck, Bond.”

R’s phone chirped at him as soon as he was out of sight. Curious, he thumbed open the message from Bond.

::Just to be clear, you are giving me license to find out what your phobia is anyway I can?::

::Am I going to regret saying yes?:: He typed back quickly.

::Most assuredly::

::What the hell, why not? Yes.:: 

R sent the last text message and then briefly wondered if he needed to visit the pysch department. He’d just given a 00 full permission to terrorize him. If it weren’t for the fact that he trusted Bond more than just about anyone in MI6, and he seriously doubted that Bond would be able to find his phobia anyway – he’d probably terrified right about now.

The next morning, several minions were crowded around his desk cooing and a significant portion of minions were backed up into the corners of the room staring at the small group in disgust. Pushing his way through the group, R spied a very large, very real tarantula sitting on top of his reports.

“A tarantula, really?” He said to no one in particular. “Let me guess, Bond?”

“How’d you know?” Minion Erik asked from where he’d been intently studying one of the long hairy legs. R just waved a hand in his direction to quiet him. 

“Anyone want a new pet? Otherwise, I give him to R&D as a test subject for their new miniaturized flamethrower,” he said, coaxing the tarantula onto his hand. Several women and even a few men visibly shuddered as he turned around with it in his hands. 

“I’ll take him,” one volunteered eagerly, dashing off to get a suitable container. 

“Dave, take a picture,” R ordered holding up the tarantula with a bored expression on his face. Dave obligingly snapped one with his phone and watched in awe as R nudged it into the offered container. Tarantula safely stowed, he grabbed Dave’s phone and sent the picture to himself. Then he forwarded it to Bond’s phone with “guess again,” tagged in the message.

Whistling, he settled himself back at his desk to finish typing up his latest after action report, secure in the knowledge that Bond would be on assignment and he’d have a few weeks of peace.

R should have known that distance would not stop Bond. Less than a week later, R stared at the door to the lift in consternation. 

::Q, check the sensors for lift 4:: he typed quickly, pressing send only to resume glaring at the door.

::Sensors appear normal. Find another lift and bother someone else:: was the helpful suggestion he received from Q.

::Am on wrong side of door for that:: 

::Ah. Standby.:: At least somebody knew he was now apparently trapped in the lift. Even as he received that last text, the lights suddenly winked out, leaving him in darkness.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered, turning on the flashlight option on his phone.

::Lights now out. Status?:: He typed out again.

::Rogue virus in the system, it might take a while to track it down. Just sit tight::

He didn’t know how Bond had managed to do it, but R was convinced that he was the culprit.

::Maintenance alerted, they’re trying to reach you now. You’re stuck between floors:: R’s phone chimed softly in the dark and he scowled at his phone.

::Don’t bother. On the move:: he jabbed the message out and then shined his phone up at the overhead. Spying the latch he was looking for, he climbed up on top of the safety rails to push open the vent to the shaft. What half of Q-Branch forgot on a routine basis was that he did actually have training for escape and evade, including escaping from lifts. 

R made quick work of climbing out on top of the car. Sure enough, the top of the car had only risen about six inches above the next level. Reaching up, he flicked the locking mechanism on the door and pried the doors open slowly. 

“Good morning, R.”

To his credit, M didn’t look confused, merely resigned. 

“Good morning, Sir. I’d suggest a different lift. This one’s a bet sketchy at the moment.” Turning around, R took a quick picture with his phone and then flashed M and Tanner a grin. Rapidly, he spun on his heel and headed for the stairs to finally get to Q-Branch. He paused on the landing to send out two quick texts.

::Good guess, but wrong again:: He tapped out and sent the text and the picture to Bond.

::I’m out, ETA in 5. Taking stairs:: That one went to Q as he continued to trot down the stairs.

Bond was nothing if not persistent.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of MI6 helps Bond and M gets cranky. 006 tries to be helpful while Bond just gets annoyed.

Over the next few weeks, he was subjected to random attacks at any given moment. Sometimes it was Bond, once he’d returned from his latest mission. Sometimes it was a minion he’d managed to bribe. Once, it was even Moneypenny. It was almost like it was some sort of bizarre courtship, but R dismissed that thought quickly. Then again, for all he knew, a 00 said “I love you” by trying to routinely kill you.

Things had taken to randomly catching on fire when he walked into the room. Or on one memorable occasion, a stun grenade had gone off as he walked into one of the R&D labs to pick up a prototype that needed testing. That one was 001’s fault. It also landed both of them in front of M with Q standing in the background with folded arms.

“Is there a reason you seem to be jinxed at the moment?” M had asked tiredly, looking at the list Q had compiled of “incidents.”

R just blinked innocently. “Seems to me just a set of random coincidences, Sir. Nobody has been harmed.”

“There was a grenade activated in the lab.”

Shrugging R glanced at 001, “My guess is that R&D asked 001 to test out a new prototype for them. Just bad luck that I walked in at the wrong time.”

M looked at 001 who was nodding in agreement and then back at R. 

“You do both happen to remember that you are work for an intelligence agency, don’t you? Give me some credit.”

What followed was a severe dressing down by both M and Q leaving both 001 and R feeling as if they’d been filleted. As they slunk from the office with their metaphorical tails between their legs – R still unsure as to why he’d gotten dragged into it when he’d been the victim of the phobia war, as he’d dubbed it – M called out to him:

“And for Christ’s sake will you just tell Bond whatever it is he wants to know? I’d like to keep our building in one piece if at all possible.”

McBride glanced askance at him as the door closed behind them. “You aren’t going to tell him, are you?”

Snorting slightly, R headed toward the stairs, still wary of the lifts. “Not on your life,” he called as he disappeared into the stairwell. 001 followed close behind the man with something akin to grudging respect. It took a strong person, or at least a slightly unstable one, to be able to resist Bond when he wanted to find something out. 

“I thought you agreed to stop trying to kill me?” R pointed out as they went down another flight.

“First of all, I never agreed to that. Secondly, the grenade only blinded you for a bit. You’re fine,” McBride said dismissively.

“Your concern is touching,” R muttered as he neared the Q-Branch level.

“I’ll be at the training pool if you need me,” McBride said cheerfully, disappearing down another corridor.

R shook his head. He now understood why the phrase “Bloody 00s” was used so frequently in MI6.  
~~~~~

Bond was annoyed.

This was never a good thing as far as the rest of the civilized (and uncivilized) world was concerned. People tended to die and buildings to tended to be razed to the ground when he got annoyed. 

For five weeks, he’d tried just about all of his tricks to figure out what it was that R had been afraid of enough to drop being - from all accounts he’d seen - a truly excellent field agent. It is possible he’d just not liked doing the field work, but there had been something in his tone of voice, a flash of something in his eyes when Bond had questioned him on the roof.

Bond had already eliminated all of the ones he could without actually doing physical harm to the man. Despite all appearances, he really didn’t want to traumatize R. Despite the fact that R had given him Carte Blanche to do whatever he wanted, it would upset his future plans immensely if the man actually died. Everything he’d done or coerced someone else into doing were all things that – according to his service record – shouldn’t have been problematic, and Bond had hoped it might at least spark something else. 

So far, it hadn’t. 

He’d even gone as far as making contact with some acquaintances in MI5 that might have known him, but nothing had come to light. Bond had developed a healthy respect for the man after those conversations and seeing him handle everything Bond and the rest of the 00s threw at him. Not many people could handle a 00 and R seemed right at home among them.

If it had been anybody else, Bond probably would have wined and dined them before tumbling them into bed as soon as possible. A partnership with a 00 was tenuous at best. If it was a target, they usually ended up dead. If it was something casual on the side, the partner usually ended up a widow of sorts before too long. When an opportunity arose, a 00 took it. And yet, there was something about R. He’d been intrigued from the very first interview but Bond had left him alone for a few months, to see if R could even manage to find his feet in Q-Branch. As the weeks turned into months, they’d gradually become friends.

Like Q, R was another constant in his life. There were becoming more of those. Q, R, Moneypenny, M. Even 006, who he shared a flat with out of convenience, had been his accomplice on multiple missions and they’d formed friendship of sorts.

“Have you tried asking him again?” A voice sounded close by and Bond shook his head mutely. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. He’d been hiding out in the 00 lounge again, trying to figure out his next step.

“You know, I’ve never seen you afraid to charm the pants off someone before, this kid must be something special,” Alec huffed in amusement watching an unusual display of emotion flicker across Bond’s face.

“When was the last time you found someone who could keep up with a 00 that wasn’t actually another 00?” Bond shot back, cleaning the next piece of his gun with a well-practiced hand.

“Moneypenny,” Alec countered quickly. “But she wanted a certain Quartermaster instead.”

Bond inclined his head in agreement. No one had expected that one, but the two had an odd chemistry that seemed to work for them. He and Q had tried once or twice, but it had never worked out. Q could never separate the work he did for 007 and the relationship he’d had with James Bond. 

“Do I need to help out here? Because trust me, you don’t want me playing Cupid,” Alec muttered, kicking his feet up on the table next to James. “I’m just as likely to smack him upside the head and tell him to get his arse into your bed.”

No one accused Alec Trevelyan of being subtle, though he could be if the situation called for it. 

“Just ask the pup out for dinner or something.” Alec was already bored with the topic. He’d watched James run in circles around this kid for at least a month and a half now and damned if the kid wasn’t running his own circles. Eventually the two were going to crash into each other. Hopefully it would be sooner rather than later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R and Bond actually make it on a date. Of course it can't go smoothly...

After the stun grenade incident – Bond still wasn’t sure if 001 was trying to kill R or not – he finally done as Alec suggested asked R out to dinner. And surprisingly enough, R agreed.

“Are you ready to give up?” R asked casually as he cut into a piece of steak that he probably couldn’t have afforded in this lifetime.

Bond took a sip of his wine and settled back with a small smile. “What makes you think I don’t already know?”

R merely raised an eyebrow and stabbed another piece of meat with his fork.

“Because you just did the classic evasion of a question with a question,” he said after he’d finished his bite. “You don’t know.”

Shaking his head ruefully, Bond let a grin flicker across his face. “Not for lack of trying. Is this the part where you tell me you didn’t actually doctor any of the records and you have no phobias?”

That earned him a laugh and an affectionate grin. “I wouldn’t do that to you. There really is a phobia and I really did alter something. I’ll take it as a sign of my prowess that you couldn’t figure out the forgery.”

It was Bond’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

All he got was an innocent look as R took a sip of the ice water next to his plate. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s something in this room. That help narrow it down any?”

Glancing around the room, Bond shook his head. 

“Not really. For all I know it’s something as strange as fear of bald-headed men wearing striped trousers.”

Spying the man Bond had been referring to standing at the bar, R couldn’t help but laugh. “Luckily for you it’s not. It’s far more common than that I’m afraid. Quite ordinary, in fact.”

Bond was saved from having to guess again by the ringing of R’s phone. With a resigned sigh, he pulled it from his inner jacket pocket and glanced at it. “It’s Q,” he said glumly, thumbing it on quickly.

Upon hearing the words, “yes, I can be there in about 20,” come out of R’s mouth, Bond quickly signaled for the cheque. 

“Things would get cocked up the first day I manage to leave the building for longer than three hours in two months,” R groused, downing the remaining wine in his glass in a fit of pique. 

“I’ll give you a lift,” Bond offered, standing and pulling on his coat as R mirrored his actions across the table. The button down collared black dress shirt with silver tie quickly disappeared as R wrapped his coat around himself snugly. Given that it was almost December, the coat was an absolute must.

“It’s alright; I can get a cab, James. No reason your evening should be ruined as well.” R countered, heading toward the door. He gave Bond a quick grin. 

“Just get in the car, R.” 

As Bond was already holding the car door open, R slid into the Audi with a roll of his eyes. “Demanding already? This doesn’t bode well for our relationship, you know.”

They bantered back and forth as Bond navigated his way through the London streets. The late hour meant he slid into a parking space less than 10 minutes after R had received the phone call.

“Just so you know, I was actually having fun,” R said as Bond flipped off the motor. “This is the last place I want to be right now.”

Bond smiled. “Just means we’ll have to try again, doesn’t it?”

R nodded and matched his grin before climbing out of the car tiredly. It’d been a hellish two weeks with either one or both of Q-Branch’s senior members attending the viewscreen at what seemed like all hours of the day. And night. Tonight was supposed to have been easy. In fact, Q shouldn’t have even been there, much less R. That’s why they’d scaled back to the skeleton night crew again.

Realizing Bond was shadowing his steps into the building, R raised an eyebrow. Bond just smiled benignly and they both continued on in silence, only their footsteps sounding through a mostly empty building.

Q looked distinctly frazzled as R climbed up to the loft, Bond still following him like a persistent shadow.

“I’m sorry, did I ruin your evening?” He asked snarkily, even as his fingers continued working double-time, his eyes flicking across the screen rapidly. 

“Yes, we were having a lovely time. Thank you,” R bounced back, tossing his coat onto the railing and loosening his tie still trapped under his waistcoat, pulling it off with a groan. 

“My apologies,” Q rejoined with utter insincerity. “If you would be so kind, 0013 is in a bit of a bad spot in Hong Kong and I’ve got my hands full with some idiot savant who’s managed to make it past the 4th firewall layer.”

The skeleton crew that had been desperately trying to keep up with Q let out sighs of relief and quickly split off into two camps. Two went to help Q defend the firewall and the other two provided back up as R guided 0013 through Hong Kong. Through it all, R couldn’t help but notice that Bond hadn’t left. Even Q looked up at one point and snapped, “For God’s sake, 007, go home.”

Bond had merely grunted noncommittally without looking up from the tablet perched on his knee. Neither Q nor R had the energy to divert to convince him to go elsewhere and in truth, R didn’t want him to leave. There was something oddly calming about having a trained assassin in the room. One who even provided helpful hints at one point when 0013 needed to know the fastest route somewhere. R had relayed the directions as Bond had uttered them, before giving him a grateful smile. Bond quirked the corner of his lip up in acknowledgement before returning to the tablet.

Q managed to boot the hacker out of the system before R was done with 0013, but only by a narrow margin. As it was, when R checked the time on the clock, he’d realized that they’d been at it for almost four hours and it was now 0205 in the morning. Stretching his muscles with a groan, R sat down tiredly on a stool near Bond as Q disappeared into his office.

“Can you do me a favor?” He murmured, scrubbing his hand across his face.

“This doesn’t bode well for our relationship,” Bond quipped, closing whatever report he’d been looking at on the tablet.

“You are bloody hilarious, aren’t you,” R snipped before grimacing. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. Look, can you get Q home for me? I promised Moneypenny that he’d actually make it back to his flat tonight and it’s just late enough he’ll try to fight me on this.”

He looked at Bond seriously for a moment, “he’s been here for almost 40 hours and awake for at least 47 hours. He needs to go home and get some actual sleep. Not something he’s snatched on the sofa for 20 minutes. In fact,” he paused and sent a rapid text to Moneypenny, “I’ve just told Moneypenny not to let him near the office until at least noon tomorrow. That should help. He’ll actually listen to her.”

“Just – just make sure he gets home?” He finished, looking at Bond helplessly.

“You need sleep as well,” Bond countered without actually answering the question. “How long have you been up?”

R flapped a hand in his direction, “Not as long as Q but probably longer than healthy. I’ll keep an eye on things here until Q gets back at noon. Then I’ll take the rest of the day and get some sleep.” R said tiredness creeping through his voice. Bond eyed him for a long moment before nodding. 

“I’ll make sure he gets home.”

“Thanks, I owe you.” R grinned tiredly. “Next time, we make it through the whole date, yeah?”

Bond smirked back, “I think that can be arranged.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion to Bond and R's first date.

After that, it took short work to manhandle Q into his coat and down the stairs. At one point, Bond had to put him in an armlock to keep him from turning around, but eventually he’d been shoved gently into the Audi and they sped away. R watched them leave through the video feeds before pulling up some reports that needed to be typed. He’d remained standing at the console, too tired to go back downstairs and fairly certain that if he sat down, he’d probably fall asleep.

It was proof of his exhaustion when he yelped as a pair of arms encircled themselves around his waist.

“You need to sleep.” Bond stated, resting his chin on R’s shoulder.

“Somebody’s got to stay here and keep an eye on 0013 and the bulk of 002’s mission starts around 0700 this morning. The minions won’t be enough. And what the hell are you doing back here? Why didn’t you just go home?”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t sleep,” Bond countered his breath warm against the back of R’s neck, ignoring the other questions. “Come on.” He gently tugged R away from the console in the general direction of Q’s outer office. There was a large plush couch in there that had been used by both R and Q on more than one occasion.

“Hold on a moment,” R tried to wriggle out of Bond’s grasp. “Seriously, give me two seconds.” 

“What is it with Q-Branch?” Bond wondered aloud, tightening his grip slightly.

Giving up on extricating himself, R heaved a sigh and called out,

“Toby, get up here.”

“Yes, chief?” A head popped up from the bottom of the stairs. The minion’s eyes widened slightly at seeing R being wrapped in an assassin’s grip but he bit his tongue and waited.

R could hear Bond huff in laughter behind him. “They actually call you chief?” He muttered in his ear before continuing to chuckle.

“Toby, things are pretty quiet for now and I’m dead on my feet. I’m going to kip on Q’s couch for a couple of hours. If things go balls up again, wake me up, will you? And if for some reason I’m not up by 0600, come get me?”

A smirk crossed Toby’s face when he heard the word sleep and R glared. “Sleep, Toby. That’s all. Sleep.”

“Uh huh. Sure chief. We’ve got it under control now.” R could hear Toby snickering as he went down the stairs but he was too tired to care.

“See? Easy.” Bond said smugly, nudging R back toward the office and the soft leather couch. R swatted at him half-heartedly before letting himself be herded. Bond kicked the door shut behind him, leaving the office shrouded in a grey half-light.

“Sleep, remember James?” R pointed out as he felt Bond slip out of his dinner jacket behind him. 

“I haven’t forgotten,” Bond rumbled against his back. R moved forward and flopped on the couch with a sigh, his face pressed into the leather. He felt nimble fingers tug off his shoes and socks before gently pulling him into a sitting position. With a few deft motions, his waistcoat joined the shoes on the floor and his shirt shortly after. Clad only in his trousers, R watched as Bond stripped down to match. A gun he’d had concealed was lain on the coffee table, in easy reach of both men.

Flashing R a charming and completely innocent grin that R didn’t believe for a minute, Bond slipped behind him on the couch and stretched out its length, tugging on R until he was stretched out against him, his back still pressed against Bond’s chest. Pulling at the blanket on the back of the couch, Bond pulled until it draped neatly over both of them, before wrapping his arm back around R’s waist.

“Not a bad way to end a first date,” he murmured into R’s hair, his fingers tracing over R’s stomach lightly.

R cracked a yawn and shifted until he was comfortable, letting his eyes drift shut. He let out a sound that was vaguely affirmative as sleep tugged at his consciousness. 

“Hydrophobia,” he murmured suddenly and Bond stilled behind him.

“You’re afraid of water?” Bond asked, his breath ruffling the tiny hairs on the back of R’s neck.

“Afraid of drowning. Freak out when my head goes underwater. Blackmailed the instructor and then altered the scores to passing.” R mumbled sleepily into Bond’s arm. “Never was an issue in the field. Didn’t want it to become one. So I transferred.”

Bond continued to run his fingertips up and down R’s stomach lightly as he wondered if he should admit to the fact that he’d figure it out at the restaurant or just let the man believe that he’d managed to keep it a secret. Ironically, given his status as a Commander in the Navy, he’d never actually considered tossing the man into the water. His mind vaguely registered the deep even breaths of the man lying next to him and Bond let his hand still. R shifted slightly in his sleep and burrowed into Bond’s warmth, his breath ghosting across Bond’s forearm. Finally, Bond allowed his muscles to relax and he fell into a light doze.

~~~~~~

At 0523, the outer office was flooded with light and Bond had his gun in his hand before his eyes fully opened.

“I do hope you are not intending to shoot me,” M said drily, moving further into the room as Bond processed the voice and uncocked the gun. He shot a withering glare at Toby who was still hovering outside the open door. Toby shrugged apologetically and mouthed “Sorry!”

“Q texted me about the events last night and mentioned that R would be here this morning if I wanted a full report.” M added as an explanation to his sudden presence. “Imagine my surprise to find you here, Bond.” M glanced pointedly at the two bare chested men entwined on the couch.

Bond scrubbed his free hand across his face before reaching down to nudge R who had managed to sleep through it all. In sleep, he looked much younger than his 29 years, or at least he would have if his head hadn’t managed to be buried underneath Bond’s arm.

R let out something that might have been a grunt, or a word, it was rather hard to tell through the cushion.

Bond flicked him sharply and the noise that came out was definitely a growl. It would have been funny except M was looking even grumpier than usual.

R pulled out and his head and glared at Bond. “What the hell?” His voice was still rough with sleep and his cheeks looked oddly flushed. Bond nodded in the direction of the door. 

“We have company,” he said amused. R’s head whipped around and then he let it flop down with a groan.

“Good morning, Sir.”

“Good morning, R. Did you sleep well?” His tone was bland, but M’s eyes were hard and R rapidly tried to figure out if there was a way to salvage the situation. It was too damn early in the morning for his brain to be working this fast.

He swung himself up into sitting position, feeling Bond shift beside him until they were both sitting on the couch facing an annoyed M.

“For the record, we didn’t have sex.” R thought it was necessary to point that out, because it certainly looked like they had. “I’d been up for a very long time and Bond suggested a nap. Toby had instructions to wake me if anything went wrong. I was just about to get up anyway.”

“Far be it from me to comment on what happens between two consenting adults, but I would remind you of our policy against sex in the workplace. Or at least remind you to be more discrete in the future. You have two minutes. Bond, go home.” The last order was hurled over his shoulder as M disappeared back out onto the loft.

R slumped back against Bonds shoulder and sighed.

“Next time, we don’t invite M, agreed?” He muttered, running his fingers through his hair roughly in agitation. Bond pressed his lips against his neck. 

“Agreed,” he murmured, his lips tickling R’s shoulder.

R rolled his eyes and pinched Bond’s arm. “I’ve got an angry boss to appease and you apparently are persona non grata at the moment. Bad you for seducing the poor unsuspecting minion.” He grinned at Bond before reaching down to snag his shirt. 

Dressing quickly, R made his way out into the loft followed by Bond. It was slightly unfair that Bond looked as put together as he did. As it was, R was going to have to visit the locker room shower and change into yet another emergency stash of clothes.

With a cool nod toward M and another glare at Toby who actually did squeak this time, Bond disappeared out the door presumably headed toward the garage.

Somehow M’s disdain had deepened as he’d waited and R felt like he was back in primary school facing the headmaster. But he gave his report and eventually, M nodded. He gave a few more suggestions for the upcoming mission and then turned to head back to his office.

“Be careful, R,” M warned suddenly, pausing on the top stair to look back at him. “Never forget what Bond is capable of and what he’s trained to do. Seduction is his forte and if you get your heart broken, it could make things very unpleasant. I’d like to not have to find another second-in-command for Q-Branch.”

Nodding slightly in understanding, R watched M disappear down the stairs. It was good advice, but he’d already considered that possibility a long time ago. He didn’t know what he and Bond had, but he had a feeling that Bond would never intentionally hurt him. And if it was unintentional, then he had no one to blame but himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R ventures into an unlikely place and has a moment with Bond. 001 attempts to gain the upper hand when it comes to R.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I don't own Bond. If you have made it to this chapter, Thank you, thank you for continuing to read it! I'm not British, so things might sound off. I don't have a beta, so please be kind. Reviews and comments are always appreciated!

December and January passed without too much fuss. Bond had been in Taipei over Christmas and New Years Eve so they hadn’t had much of a chance to celebrate the holidays. Despite the distance, they’d still managed to enjoy themselves, especially once Bond had arrived back home. He’d developed a preference for sleeping at R’s flat and would routinely show up there – sometimes before he’d even reported to M. For some reason, R had never managed to see Bond’s flat. He never questioned it and they always ended up his bed.

In March, they celebrated having actually survived Bond’s many near death experiences and R’s first year at MI6 in style by having an uninterrupted date. As R curled around Bond the next morning, he wondered briefly how this had become his life, but oddly enough, he wasn’t upset in the slightest.

One Thursday evening, R wandered upstairs to the loft.

“Go find 007 and get that prototype earwig back,” Q called before R had even made it halfway up the stairs. “Your design proved successful but I want to get some additional readings before we make it standard issue.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where he is?” R responded, before coming up beside Q at the console.

“Being 007’s keeper is your job, not mine.” Despite the words, Q gave R a small smile before flicking up the security cameras. 

“It appears as if he’s actually taking the physiotherapist’s orders and working out in the pool. Go and fetch him, will you?” 

R just bounded down the stairs in response. He’d never actually been in the pool area. He liked being in the water, but that pool was frequently used by 00s and he didn’t really want to put up with any comments on his crap swimming. Bond had offered to help him get more comfortable in the water, but R wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

Making his way through the locker room, he was hit by the moist heat of the pool area and he inhaled the heavy chlorine smell with a slight grin. He’d forgotten that smell.

Taking off his shoes and socks, R rolled up his trouser pants and sat on the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water. He started his internal clock to see how long it would take Bond to realize that someone else was in the room.

It took another two laps before Bond came up for any significant amount of time, R appreciating the view unashamedly. He would be the first to admit that his boyfriend had a nice arse, though the shoulders weren’t bad either. Swimming did wonders for muscle tone.

Stroking lazily over to where R was sitting, Bond flicked some water up at him before resting his arms on the edge of the pool. “What brings you down here?” He asked curiously, realizing that the pool was not a favorite haunt of R’s.

“Q’s threatening to kill you again.” R said dismissively, kicking his feet idly in the water, watching the ripples with fascination.

“What’d I do this time?” Bond sighed.

“This time it’s my fault, but you take the heat so well, I didn’t bother to correct him.” R grinned down at Bond before dragging his fingers through Bond’s wet hair, making it stick straight up.

“You are lucky you can’t swim,” Bond snarked, grabbing R’s hand before nipping at his wrist playfully. “What’d you do so I can explain to Q why I did it?”

“That new earwig that you didn’t return because I told you I wanted to look at it first? Q’s demanding it back.”

“It’s in my locker. I’ll get it for you in a minute.” Bond said, placing R’s hand back on his head. R obligingly began to thread his fingers through Bond’s hair again, watching as some of the post-mission stress visibly drained out of him. R had quickly learned that head rubs would get him anything; Bond was very much like a great big cat.

After indulging him for a minute or two, R swatted his shoulder gently. “Go get the earwig and then we can go home, hedonist.”

Bond grinned up at him unrepentantly as he hoisted himself up out of the water. Looming over R, he shook himself like a dog and R whapped him again – this time on the leg. “And you wonder why I never come down here.”

“Coming?” Bond held out a hand and R blinked up at him innocently.

“Earwig first and then I move. I’m comfortable.”

Bond looked at him suspiciously and then glanced at the silent pool.

“I’ll be fine James. I’m hardly going to go swimming whilst in my clothes. Go get cleaned up and then come back and get me.”

Shooting R a warning glance, Bond headed back to the locker room to change, throwing a call over his shoulder, “One of these days, I’m going to teach you to swim.”

R just snorted and resumed kicking his feet in the water. It had been a while since he’d been in any water other than a shower. Showering with Bond was fun. He could only imagine what swimming with Bond would be like.

Hearing the door open again, he looked back with confusion. Opening his mouth, he started to berate Bond for returning so quickly when he realized that it was most definitely not Bond. 001 and 002 stared back at him in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” McBride asked, stalking near him. R was on his feet in a flash. Despite the uneasy truce that had developed between the two, R still didn’t trust him all that readily, especially when he was just off assignment. 002, he didn’t know much about, but Belden had always been friendly at least.

“Just waiting for Bond,” R said casually, moving over to where he’d left his shoes. “Going for a swim, I take it?”

McBride eyed him, “Not going for one yourself?” he shot back.

R glanced down at his work attire and raised an eyebrow. “Apparently not,” he deadpanned, sitting down on one of the low chaise lounges to put on his shoes.

“That’s too bad; you should really take a dip.” McBride said, stalking closer. R abandoned his shoes and focused on backing away from McBride, who looked decidedly like he was contemplating mischief.

“Not in the mood to get wet right now, thanks anyway.” R flipped back. 002 had bid a hasty retreat and R could only hope that he had the good sense to get Bond. In a fight, R knew he had no chance against McBride, being a 00 was a whole different level than being an ordinary field agent, and R hadn’t even been one of those for very long.

He tried very hard not to glance at the water, knowing for sure that McBride would pick up on any fear he chose to show.

McBride rushed him anyway. There was a brief struggle on the edge of the pool before McBride managed to gain the upper hand. Before R could give any sort of shout, he’d been heaved into the pool, the water closing in over his head.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rescue takes place and another death is barely averted.

002 had indeed bid a hasty retreat, and also had managed to find Bond in the locker room. They’d struck up a conversation while Bond changed when McBride walked in whistling cheerfully a few minutes later.

“What’s got you so happy?” Belden asked suspiciously. 

“Oh, just finally got one over on the runt,” he said, stripping out of his shirt and trousers before pulling on a pair of swim trunks.

“How?” Bond asked sharply, standing up quickly from where he’d been straddling the bench.

“Relax, Bond. He just got a little wet, that’s all.”

Bond’s normally tanned face drained of color and he sprinted for the door. Not sure what was wrong, but knowing if 007 was running, he should probably be too, Belden was on his heels. McBride heaved himself up with a sigh, wondering why the hell such a fuss was being kicked up over a dunking.

He entered the pool area just as Bond dove – fully clothed- into the water, making a beeline for a disturbingly still blur in the water. 

“Shit,” Belden breathed as McBride moved up next to him. Both men crouched by the side of the pool as Bond towed the unconscious body toward them. Unbidden, each stretched out a hand to pull R up and over the lip of the pool, stretching him out flat. As Bond was climbing out of the pool, 002 quickly determined R was most decidedly NOT breathing, as McBride went to his neck, searching for a pulse. 

“Get someone from medical down here, now,” Bond barked at McBride pushing him aside, “and grab some towels.”

“He’s got a pulse,” McBride called to Belden as he sprinted out of the room, “but it’s thready.”

He reappeared a minute later with a stack of towels, tossing one to Bond immediately. Bond gingerly lifted R’s head and put the folded towel underneath it, careful not to interrupt Belden’s rescue breathing. 

“Medical’s on their way,” McBride said, from his crouch by R’s feet.

Bond was distracted from thoughts of dismembering McBride slowly by a violent coughing below him. Belden pulled back as R coughed out what water he could and then continued coughing, the sound wet and deep. He started shivering and McBride automatically handed Bond another towel while moving to dry off his legs.

“R? Come on, love. Open your eyes.” Bond coaxed as R attempted to curl up under the towels covering him.

R’s eyelids flickered and Bond brushed his hair back. “Come on, almost there,” he murmured.

Finally, finally, R’s eyes blinked open and Bond peered into them carefully. The normally bright green eyes were hazy and he seemed to be having a hard time focusing on any one thing.

“You gave us one hell of a scare, kid,” Belden said sitting down next to them with a thump. R tried to take a breath but ended up hacking out another cough, his body still trying to rid itself of the water. His eyes closed as he fought for breath.

As Bond was trying to coax R’s eyes open again, the medical team arrived at the pool and both Belden and McBride hastily got out of the way. Bond was less easy to move, hovering by R’s head as the medics swirled around them both.

Moving carefully but swiftly, they loaded him onto a backboard and then moved him to the stretcher, covering his nose and mouth with an oxygen mask. A medic glanced at Bond and then the other agents.

“He’s responsive, which is a good sign. Do we know how long he was in the water?” At that, Bond shot McBride a lethal look.

“At most only 2.5 minutes. Maybe less,” McBride replied quietly. 

“Were you present when it happened? Did you see him hit anything on his way into the water? Are there any other injuries he might have sustained?” The medic fired back as another one started trying to get R to respond to simple commands.

“He didn’t hit anything on the way in. We were fooling around and I tossed him into the water,” McBride admitted. “I assumed he knew how to swim since he was down here.”

The steely glares he was getting from both Bond and the medic almost made the stalwart 00 cave, but he held onto his composure and faced them steadily. He screwed up. At least he was man enough to admit that.

“He seems to be recovering, but we need to get him upstairs,” the medic with R called out and the one closest to Bond nodded and turned away. Bond followed the medical team out the doors with McBride and Belden at his heels.

While in the waiting in room, both Belden and McBride watched Bond warily as he paced back and forth across the room with a face like thunder as he left a trail of water on the lino. 

“Don’t you think you should change?” Belden asked mildly, though his body still radiated tenseness. All three agents were still running on an adrenaline high and with the way Bond was pacing, it was bringing him slowly but steadily closer to McBride.

“I’m fine,” Bond snapped.

“He’ll be okay, you know. We got him out in time,” Belden murmured. Bond whirled around with a snarl. 

“He shouldn’t have been in there in the first place!”

McBride launched himself up out of his chair as Bond suddenly bolted for him, a low growl building in his throat. 

“Enough!” Belden roared stepping between the two before they could actually connect. As Belden was easily the most mild-mannered of the lot, the two other agents halted in their tracks in amazement.

“Sit down. Now,” Belden continued, shoving McBride back to his chair. He put up a hand to stop Bond. “And you go over there. Nobody is killing anybody tonight. We nearly had one death on our hands and I’m bloody well not letting one happen now.”

Belden planted himself between the two with grim determination and waited patiently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me this long! I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. As always, I don't own Bond, just R and a handful of 00 agents that I can torture *cough* play with for my own amusement. Comments and kudos are much appreciated.
> 
> If anyone is curious about my vision for R - this is what I picture him looking like. 
> 
> http://oi33.tinypic.com/2r2ogub.jpg
> 
> I don't own him either. Unfortunately.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent 001 starts to realize the gravity of his mistake...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! I own nothing of value. The Bond series is of value. Enough said. Kudos and Comments are appreciated!

Reluctantly, Bond stalked to the other end of the room and called Q, who he was fairly certain was still in the building despite it being 1945.

“What is it, Bond? I’m busy.” Q snapped as he picked up and Bond could hear him typing something rapidly.

“R’s in medical,” Bond responded, dropping into one of the uncomfortable chairs with a thud. He heard the clicking of keys stop and knew he had Q’s full attention.

“What happened?” 

“Did you know R’s afraid of water?” He offered in lieu of an actual response, shooting McBride another nasty look that promised pain in the not too distant future. The agent was damn lucky that Bond didn’t want to give medical a reason to oust him from the building. McBride flipped him off and Belden scowled at him. 

“Don’t make things worse for yourself, idiot,” he hissed and McBride sighed.

“Let me guess, you didn’t,” Q snarled and Bond almost smiled at the protectiveness he could hear in Q’s voice. “All you had to do was give him a damn earpiece. Don’t tell me you’ve drowned him.”

“When I was with him, he was never in the pool. I left to get the earpiece and to change and apparently McBride thought it would be bloody hilarious to drown him.”

“Status?” Q’s voice was clipped and it almost sounded like he was moving.

“Awake, not necessarily alert. The doctors are with him now.”

That was definitely an elevator chime. Bond stared at the phone as Q suddenly disconnected him.

Within minutes, Q had arrived in the waiting room, his phone still in his hand. Spying Bond scowling fiercely at McBride, Q took it upon himself to start berating McBride with everything he had. The 00s had received dressing downs before; for failure to return equipment or taking unnecessary personal risks, but this was on a whole new level. Belden prudently moved over to sit by Bond, leaving 001 in the hotseat.

Bond took a moment to enjoy the sight of McBride sinking in his seat as Q continued to verbally flay him alive. He was sure his turn would come whenever Q stopped to catch a breath, but for now, he was thoroughly enjoying McBride’s misery. He’d take his own shots later and they would probably be far more lethal than Q’s barbed words.

He felt Belden nudge his arm and he turned to glance at him curiously. Belden inclined his head toward the door. “Look who’s working late,” he murmured before going back to pretending he was part of the wall. Belden’s specialty was actually blending into the background and Bond envied him of that as he spotted M and Moneypenny striding into the disturbingly beige room.

“What the hell happened?” M demanded, glancing at the three agents in the room and Q who had finally broken off his tirade.

“Does someone want to tell me why the hell R is in medical?” He added, his ire growing with each passing word.

“He nearly drowned,” Belden offered up helpfully.

“How?” M snapped. Belden shrugged.

“I wasn’t there. I was in the locker room,” he said. “I only ran out when Bond did.”

At the mention of Bond’s name, M’s eyes snapped to him. “I left him sitting by the edge of the pool while I changed and grabbed some equipment he’d come down to get for Q,” Bond continued, adding on to Belden’s story.

“And yet none of this tells me why Q-Branch’s second-in-command is currently being treated for a near-death experience on home soil while surrounded by three bloody agents,” M snarled. 

Bond arched an eyebrow and stared daggers at McBride. Following his gaze, M moved to stand in front of McBride.

“You seem oddly quiet on the matter, McBride,” M growled.

“I didn’t know he couldn’t swim.” Mcbride muttered, folding his arms across his chest defensively. He didn’t know how many more times he needed to say it. 

“Is that an admission of guilt I hear?” M asked silkily, his eyes locking on to McBride’s.

“I wasn’t trying to kill him. I just wanted to dunk him in the water. God knows he’s been a prat often enough. I thought he could swim and that he was holding his breath, so I left and went into the locker room to change.” McBride burst out.

“001, you are hereby suspended from active duty until we sort this mess out. You’ve had entirely too many close encounters that have nearly killed our top technician in Q-Branch. The first time wasn’t even accidental.” M said icily.

McBride was saved from answering by the appearance of one of the doctors who headed straight for M.

“We’ve got him stabilized, Sir. We’re lucky he wasn’t in the water that long. He must have just lost consciousness before he was pulled. His Oxygen levels are still attempting to stabilize but he’s starting to orient himself properly and string sentences together. We’d like to keep him in observation overnight to make sure no other complications arise. His lungs took a pretty big hit and they are extremely irritated right now. We’ll be even luckier if he doesn’t develop pneumonia out of this.”

The doctor rattled all of this off in one breath as M nodded slowly.

“Do it. Keep me informed. I’d like to know if his condition changes.”

“Very good, Sir. Agent 007, he’s asking for you. Try to keep your stay under five minutes and for God’s sake don’t let him talk too much.” The doctor snapped as he spun on his heel. 00s were nothing but a headache to him and no one in his division liked dealing with them. They consistently ignored medical advice and seemed to think it was a game to escape at every opportunity.

The doctor had every reason to be suspicious of the 00s as Bond had absolutely no intention of leaving Medical until R was able to be moved elsewhere, preferably back home.

M watched a very damp Bond dog the footsteps of the doctor, practically stepping on his heels before turning back to the remaining 00 agents.

“McBride, Q will accompany you and take any weapons you may still have stowed in your locker downstairs. Report back to my office at 0900 tomorrow morning and you and I will have a little – chat. Belden, come with me. I want your take on this before I track down Bond.” M barked as he strode to the door, not waiting to see if anyone would follow him.

Moneypenny paused by McBride and leveled a stare at him. “You do realize how fucked you are?” She said conversationally, patting him none to gently on the shoulder. “When the minions hear what happened to R and who’s responsible for it, they are going to make your life hell on earth. And believe me, they will know.” She bared her teeth at him in an approximation of a smile and McBride repressed a shudder.

“For the last time, it was an accident.” McBride snarled, though his eyes might have had a flicker of something else entirely. The minions were devious and only through the guiding hands of Q and R did they manage to channel that energy for good. Moneypenny was even worse.

“Come on, Belden,” Moneypenny said instead, ignoring McBride. “Let’s get this over with.”

Q arched an eyebrow and gestured to the door, “After you,” he snarled. McBride would have laughed at the skinny quartermaster, who he could break like a twig, but the rage he saw in his eyes silenced any comment he may have made. Silently, he stood up and made for the door, Q right behind, staring daggers at his back.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R's finally released from Medical and gets to visit Bond's flat for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For someone who is unused to having other people actually reading her writing, the fact that I have kudos at all is amazing to me. Thank you so much for reading and your awesome comments! Keep them coming!
> 
> *insert standard disclaimer of non-ownership here*

As promised, Bond had not let R speak beyond a short raspy “James” that he got out as soon as Bond had entered the room. It hadn’t taken much to convince him to fall into an exhausted sleep, the monitors beeping steadily. However, despite the orders of multiple doctors and nurses and at one point M, Bond had remained in the room the entire night.

Having been deemed fit for release, but under strict orders to take it easy for a couple of days, R was finally able to leave MI6 the following morning. There had been a brief stop in Q-Branch where R had picked up his bag. The minions present had swarmed around him in relief, Bond watching with barely concealed amusement. Several of them had snuck upstairs to medical to visit R, but as he’d been asleep, Bond had sent them on their way.

He didn’t allow the crowd to linger though, scattering them after a few minutes. R still looked haggard and his voice was steadily growing worse. He’d have laryngitis by the end of the day if he kept that up.

The ride home was shorter than he’d originally anticipated, but Bond suspected the minions had a hand in it. There were an abnormally large amount of green lights in his favor. As it was, R still managed to fall into a light doze before the car had slid smoothly into a parking spot inside a private garage. The car shifting into park caused R to blink open his eyes sleepily.

“Where the hell are we?” he asked roughly, shifting up to look out the window.

“My place.”

R glanced around at the few cars that were in there before letting Bond pull him from the car. Bond had been acting strange ever since R had woken up this morning, but knowing Bond’s history with drowning and lovers, R was almost surprised he wasn’t worse. And given the events of last night, R was more than content to let him be an overly gruff, protective teddy bear. The thought of the water closing over his head caused a shudder to run up his spine and Bond paused in their trek to the lift to look at him in concern. 

Shaking his head at Bond’s inquisitive look, R just burrowed himself closer, Bond’s arm tightening around him automatically. The ride in the lift was fast but smooth, after Bond inserted a key and typed in the code that would allow the car to go all the way to the top of the shaft.

As the lift door opened up into what was a very nice penthouse suite, R looked up at Bond. “Why the hell would you want to spend so much time in my flat when you have this place?”

Bond just shrugged and moved out into the open living room, automatically running his eyes over all visible corners of the room. “I’m never in this place long enough for it to really be home. Your flat suits you.”

R shook his head and grinned at Bond. “I still think you’re a loon. How can you expect to make this place into a home if you’re at my place at all the time?”

His eyes tracked Bond as he moved around the flat, still presumably running his own security sweep. As his eyes roamed, he couldn’t help but take in the dark furniture, a mix of cherry and leather surrounded in a swirl of black marble. Despite his claims, Bond seemed at ease in the posh apartment, prowling easily through the furniture to reach the bar. Pulling down a glass he raised an eyebrow at R and then grabbed a second one at R’s nod.

Grabbing the glasses and a bottle of scotch, Bond made his way over to a plush leather couch and R followed rubbing his fingers through his hair. He felt absolutely vile but for some reason was loathe to go anywhere near water at the moment.

“How are you feeling?” Bond asked, after they’d both collapsed into the couch and allowed some of the tension to disappear – as well as some of the scotch.

“Tired. But alive. So I’m good.” R murmured sleepily. For a change he was stretched out on the couch with his head in Bond’s lap; Bond’s fingers combing through his hair idly. It usually ended up the other way round, mostly because R still suspected Bond was part cat and he took any opportunity to see if he could make him purr.

The sound of the elevator rising made Bond tense and R looked up at him. “Expecting someone?” He asked, trying to shake off the lethargy by sitting up. Bond just pushed him back down again his free hand hovering by his side.

When the door dinged opened, R felt Bond relax suddenly and his hand suddenly resumed stroking through his hair.

“What the hell are you doing back so soon?” Bond called out as Alec stepped into the living room.

Alec eyed the two of them with a leer, “Not interrupting anything am I?”

“I wish,” R rasped back, without his usual snark and Alec moved closer to study the two curled up on the couch.

“What in the bloody hell happened to you two?” he asked, taking in their haggard appearances and Bond’s wrinkled suit. He’d never bothered to change out of his wet clothes, unwillingly to leave R alone in the room long enough to find dry clothes. 

“Just a near-death experience. Nothing out of the ordinary,” R murmured sleepily as Bond’s fingers continued to massage his scalp. Alec raised his eyebrow at Bond and then backed off when he received a warning glance.

“Right then, I’m going to get cleaned up.”

Alec headed toward his room and the shower he’d been dreaming of ever since he’d left Morocco, leaving the two obviously tired men on the couch. He’d get the story out of Bond after he scrubbed off the sand.

Re-emerging from his room an hour later, Alec saw that the television was on but that both men had nodded off into sleep. Swiping the bottle of scotch off the coffee table by Bond’s feet he was unsurprised when Bond’s eyes snapped open to stare at him, the sound stirring him to wakefulness. R slumbered on, his body tightly curled in a defensive posture, keeping his back to the room and his head buried in Bond’s stomach. Bond’s arm was draped protectively over his back and Alec marveled at the sight. It had been a long time since he’d seen Bond that protective over someone.

He settled into an armchair near Bond and poured himself a glass of the scotch, stretching his long legs out to rest on the coffee table mimicking Bond’s posture.

“Well?”

“McBride nearly killed him.”

Alec’s posture didn’t change, but the air around him certainly did and his voiced grew icy, “How?”

“Threw him in the bloody pool. R can’t swim. He has panic attacks any time his head goes under.”

“Christ.” Alec tossed back the rest of the scotch and poured himself another measure.

Bond nodded in agreement. “I’m going to kill him,” he added almost conversationally. Ordinary people said that all the time, but Bond was not ordinary and very good at keeping his promises. Alec bared his teeth.

“Please tell me I get to help.” 

While R may have never been over to the flat before, he and 006 had become friends over the last year. The fact that his flatmate was dating the second-in-command made him almost family and since 00s rarely had blood relations they were fiercely protective over anyone they let into their lives. Bond was as good as his brother which meant that 001 was about to face not only the wrath of the minions and 007, but 006 as well.

“How is he?” Alec nodded at the still form, and Bond sighed.

“Physically he’ll be fine.”

Alec raised an eyebrow and waited. 

“He doesn’t usually sleep like this,” Bond let his hand run over R’s taut back gently. “Usually he manages to sprawl over half the bed and me while he’s at it.”

“Nightmares?”

“Not yet, but I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet. At the moment he’s just glad to be alive.” Bond leaned his head back against the edge of the couch and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“You look like hell,” Alec said helpfully and when Bond flipped him off, Alec snickered. “Go make yourself presentable, I’ll keep an eye on him and order something for lunch.”

Bond paused for a moment before nodding slowly. Alec left his chair before returning with a pillow which he threw at Bond’s head. Bond sent him a glare before attempting to extricate himself without waking R. He succeeded as R only grumbled a minute before curling back up around the pillow Bond had put in his place. 

He made quick work of showering and changing into something more casual, dark jeans and a long sleeve black shirt before padding back into the living room in bare feet.

“He’s still asleep.”

Bond turned to find Alec in the kitchen resting his elbows on kitchen island. Automatically, his eyes flicked out to the 270 degree view of London – the main reason he’d initially chosen the flat – before he moved to sit at the counter across from Alec. Taking the drink Alec passed to him, he tossed it down before pouring another one. Alec just waited.

“How the hell did this happen?” Bond threw out quietly, choosing to sip this drink.

“Which part? The fact that your boyfriend almost drowned or that you have a boyfriend at all?” Alec asked, pouring his own glass of scotch.

“Either. Both. Christ, I don’t know.” Bond rubbed his head and sighed. Alec felt a bit sorry for his friend. “When was the last time you had an actual relationship? I’m in over my head, here.” Bond finished and Alec shrugged.

“Apparently, so was R last night.” Catching Bond’s angry scowl, he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Too soon?” 

“You’ll be fine.” He added. “He’ll be fine. Despite your shortcomings, he likes you anyway. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“He should be running as far away from me as fast as he can.” Bond said bitterly.

“Who pulled him out of the pool?” Alec asked pointedly, remembering the very wrinkled suit that Bond had been wearing.

“Why do you think he was down there in the first place?” Bond countered. The thought of losing R and all that entailed had been swirling around his mind from the moment he’d grabbed R’s limp body in the pool. He couldn’t help but feel that R deserved someone who didn’t seem to attract danger to him like a magnet.

“For God’s sake, James.” Alec snapped before reigning in his temper in, reminding himself that R was still asleep.

“He knows who we are. He knows what we do and how we do it. Hell, half the time he’s on the other end of the line telling us where to bloody go! He’s probably the best thing that could have possibly happened to you and if you do anything to screw it up, I’ll beat the bloody hell out you myself.”

“Feel better?” Bond said dryly. Alec suddenly grinned at him, but then again, the agent had always been mercurial. 

“Much, thank you. Yourself?”

Bond rolled his eyes but let out a wry chuckle. Raising his glass he silently toasted Alec. It didn’t happen very often but every now and again they had to pull each other’s head out of their arse and apparently it had been his turn. He still felt R deserved better, but as Alec had said, he’d enjoy it while it lasted.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec and Bond try to lighten the mood. We learn a little more about R.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations on making it this far! I hope you've enjoyed what you've read and that you keep coming back for more! I own nothing relating to James Bond beyond the movies sitting on my DVD shelf.

R woke to the low murmur of two voices and the smell of Chinese food. His stomach rumbled and he pushed himself off the couch to find the source of both the food and the sounds.

“How long was I asleep?” he asked as he slid into a chair beside Bond. Alec tossed him a pair of chopsticks and R caught them automatically, digging gratefully into a pile of noodles.

“A couple of hours,” Alec replied smoothly, setting a bottle of water next to R’s plate. “From the sounds of it, you needed it.”

R eyed the man sitting beside him. “Please tell me you got some sleep too?”

Nodding, Bond polished off the last of his rice before grabbing another container. “I did. You can ask Alec.”

The man in question was nodding his head as well. “Swear to God, he was sleeping when I came back out.”

R wasn’t convinced, but he also didn’t feel like arguing. The two men were far too practiced at lying and his headache wasn’t helping. Reaching over, he grabbed the bottle of water and took a sip. As he set the bottle down, both Bond and Alec were watching him carefully.

With a roll of his eyes, R dug into his lo mein again. “My head won’t fit inside the bottle. It’s only when my head’s underwater that I freak.”

“That’s a fairly specific phobia,” Alec said neutrally as he grabbed a container from Bond who had been hoarding it. Bond shot him a warning look, both for stealing his food and for bringing up the topic.

Shrugging, R started poking at his meal with the chopsticks. “It tends to happen when your stepmum tries to drown you on a regular basis.”

“She did what?”

Swallowing down a mouthful of noodles, R looked up noticing the look of incredulousness on Bond’s face, which was mirrored on Alec’s. R shrugged again. 

“Some kids get sent to the corner. Some get paddled. My stepmum had a tendency hold my head under the sink faucet. If she felt I’d been particularly troublesome, she’d stop up the sink before she did it.”

The fact that this was said with such an air of casualness caused another stab of fury to slice through Bond’s eyes. 

“You do realize the woman was torturing you, right?” Alec asked when he’d finally found his voice.

“I never said she was a good mother. She had the mothering instincts of a plank of wood. Unfortunately, my father was an idiot and loved her despite her...flaws.” R’s voice held a bitter, tired edge to it and Alec could sympathize. He hadn’t exactly had the best childhood, but at least no one had tried to kill him on a regular basis.

Noticing that Bond was gripping the chopsticks with far more force than necessary, R suddenly whapped him upside the head. Bond blinked at him shock.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Bond gave him his best innocent look and R just snorted. “That stopped working on me ages ago. She died, along with my father when I was 10. Car accident. There’s no one left you can tear apart, I promise you. You either, Alec,” he added seeing a murderous light in his eyes as well.

“It’s fine, James.” R said quietly as he rubbed his temples. “It’s not like I haven’t had time to get over it.” Bond sent a silent message to Alec to drop the conversation before snatching his container back. Alec snarled and made a grab for it but missed.

R couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you guys always fight over food like this?”

“No. Usually he plays nice.” Alec shot in Bond’s general direction staring at the container with a longing look. Both men were still processing what R had told them so casually but like so many other aspects of their job, buried that tidbit of information until they had the luxury of examining it in more detail. For now, they’d focus on distracting R. He’d already had more than enough unpleasantness in the last 24 hours.

“I will stab you with my chopsticks. I’ve done it before.” Bond threatened as Alec’s hand twitched toward the container. Bond threw a smirk at R who grinned back.

The two agents kept up the easy banter throughout the rest of the meal – mostly to serve as a distraction for R who repeatedly shook his head at their antics. Not all of it was feigned; Alec really did consider Bond like a brother and so treated him as such. In the three years of living together, Bond had finally started to reciprocate. It had taken him a while to warm up to Alec’s particular brand of weirdness but eventually they had formed a friendship.

After lunch, Bond found some clean clothes for R and shoved him gently toward the bathroom. “Shower or not, it’s your choice, but you can at least get cleaned up. You’ll feel better.”

Despite R’s claims that he was fine, both Alec and Bond heaved a sigh of relief when they heard the shower start. When R emerged, he found Alec and Bond fighting over the remote control. In this case, it was not a hyperbole. They were literally wrestling on the floor for the plastic square, Bond holding it up triumphantly as he managed to get the upper hand.

“Is this why you never bring me here?” R asked snatching the remote from Bond’s hand before he could dislodge the armbar that Alec had suddenly tried. 

“I was trying to spare you from Alec’s insanity,” Bond said conversationally as Alec grappled with him.

R grinned down at both of them who had stopped moving and were each staring at the remote with calculating looks.

“Don’t even try it,” R warned backing up. “Mine.”

As one, Bond and Alec surged to their feet toward R and he bolted. He didn’t get far as Bond tackled him, grabbing him and spinning him into Alec who, being the larger of the two, hauled R off his feet before dumping over the edge of the couch. R landed with a whump and clutched the remote to his chest in a white-knuckle grip. He turned to roll off the couch and away, but Alec plopped on top of his legs, pinning him into place. Bond leaned over the arm of the couch and kissed R breathless, pulling back with the remote in his hands.

“Damn it,” R muttered, “that was not playing fair.”

“Have you met me?” Bond asked incredulously. Alec clambered off of R’s legs and R flexed them with a groan. 

“Did you seriously have to sit on me?” He kicked Alec in the leg as he wandered past. 

“No, but it was fun.”

Bond hauled R up and sat down where his head had been. Tugging R back down he stretched his legs back out onto the coffee table, mimicking the position they’d had before lunch; Alec doing the same in his chair.

Shifting his fingers through R’s wet hair, Bond teased it up into spikes and R rolled his eyes only to close them a moment later as Bond’s fingers started combing them back down into place. He flipped the remote to Alec as R let out a soft sigh of contentment. The food he’d eaten for lunch had just made him sleepy again, Bond as well though he wouldn’t admit to it.

Shaking his head at the pair, Alec picked a movie he hadn’t had a chance to see and settled in to watch. Clearly, he was going to be the only one awake through it. Sure enough, half an hour later, he glanced over to see both of them asleep again; Bond’s fingers still buried in R’s hair, his other hand flattened over R’s stomach as if to check to see if he was still breathing.

He’d find a way to excuse himself from the flat sometime this evening so they could be alone. For now, he’d watch the movie and see how many different and creative ways he could come up with to kill McBride, since he couldn’t wreak vengeance on R’s stepmother.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one takes kindly to an attack on a member of Q-branch. McBride suffers the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates! The real world has began demanding more and more of my time. As always, this has not been britpicked and I have no beta as of yet. This world is not mine, I only dabble in it.

McBride was suffering from a series of very unfortunate events. He knew precisely who was doing them and why, but did not want to admit that the entirety of MI6 seemed against him at the moment. Apparently, he’d vastly underestimated the general populace’s fondness for the spiky haired top Q-Branch minion. Even M had made his displeasure known, which was unusual for the normally calm head of MI6. 

He’d had the agent restricted to movements in London, revoked his passports and curtailed his spending habits. To make matters worse, he’d been scheduled for an absolutely hellish amount of visits with the psych department who were extraordinarily glad to get their hands on a 00. Unless specifically mandated by M, and in this case personally escorted there by Moneypenny, the 00s were unusually adept at evading that particular department.

Moneypenny had handed him over to the lead psychiatrist with a chilling smile before disappearing down the corridor. Q-Branch must have had a hand in trapping him there as every door consistently locked every time he went near it.

Speaking of Q-Branch, the minions had taken the assault on their chief with all the furor that Moneypenny had warned him would happen. As it was, McBride couldn’t show his face anywhere near Q-Branch without feeling like one of the little computer geeks would attempt to rip it off. That was only the start of it.

The water in his flat had become appalling inconsistent. Hot water turned cold between drops or turned off altogether. The temperature fluctuated at random times and the electricity had developed a nasty habit of shorting out. Anytime McBride left his flat, if he was in a cab, he hit every single bloody light red. Doors that his keycard normally accessed would no longer let him through to the other side. Lifts broke down anytime he went near them. The minions had even found a way to rig the vending machines and coffee machines. 

He was almost certain that there was at least one minion dedicated to follow him at all times just to make his life a living hell. (He wasn’t wrong. Minion Dave and Minion John had been trading off on six hour shifts – Q had even authorized the overtime.)

Using a computer was inadvisable as well. His passcodes changed on an hourly basis and he’d suddenly become the recipient of every porn ad ever devised. Most of the time he couldn’t open his phone and if he did, it was to find himself staring at hundreds of missed phone calls and texts that essentially locked it down.

McBride had made the mistake of asking Q to reign them in a bit. He’d even tried to be reasonable. After all, the faster he made it through the psych evals and got back into M’s good graces, the faster he’d be as far away from R as humanly possible. Q had just shot him a contemptuous look and rigged every electronic device on his person to automatically set off any car alarm within 20 foot. The attendants in the garage had nearly strangled him.

That wasn’t even taking into account the damage R&D had done to his locker. He didn’t dare open anything without careful scrutiny as they had taken to booby-trapping EVERYTHING. Pens. Parcels. Doorknobs. His own bloody flat. Apparently, R had become a pet of R&D and the business with the stun grenade had already been a black mark in his favor. The near drowning was just confirmation in their minds.

No, McBride had not had a very good week.

Unbeknownst to him, it was not going to get any better.

While the incident had been officially labeled as an accident, the two 00 agents were determined to educate McBride on the error of his ways. At the very least they wanted to communicate what would happen should he ever touch R again.

If the minions were fire and fury, the agents were ice and rage. A 00 was synonymous with ruthless efficiency and 006 and 007 were determined to live up to expectation. R had at least managed to extract the promise that 001 would emerge undamaged.

Relatively.

While he realized that it was actually an accident, R still couldn’t quite bring himself to absolve McBride completely. He’d made his desires to stay out of the water perfectly clear and McBride had ignored him. That alone, had Bond and Alec seething. As Alec had pointed out to R during one of their conversations, “You became one of us the minute we realized how serious Bond was about you. We kill for Queen and Country; imagine what we do for family.”

R didn’t have the heart to yell at them for wanting to protect him, though he was getting a bit tired of feeling like a damsel in distress.

He hadn’t been oblivious to the goings-on in Q-Branch. Like Q, he had access to the mainframe and watched with amusement as the minions made McBride’s life pure hell. He wasn’t sure how Q had justified the expense to M but he wasn’t worried about that. What worried him was that every now and again, he’d catch a flicker of Bond or Alec in the cameras that seemed trained on McBride 24/7. Even McBride was starting to look jumpy. Clearly he was trying to anticipate what the two angry double-oh agents had planned, but so far they’d done nothing but watch him.

That was about to change.

Bond and Alec had planned it carefully. Both were good enough agents that had they not wanted to be seen, they wouldn’t be. Once McBride seemed suitably jumpy, the agents enlisted the help of Minion Dave and oddly enough 005. Amanda Hughes had apparently developed a soft spot for R and was absolutely livid that 001 had been stupid enough to even jokingly threaten bodily harm.

It was she who first approached McBride while he was in the 00 lounge. 

“You look positively beaten,” Hughes said as she sauntered up beside him. “What the hell happened to you?”

McBride did indeed look worn. The fire alarms in the building had been going off consistently at 0205 every morning and he hadn’t managed to have a hot shower in over four days. The minions were persistent, he’d give them that.

“The minions know how to hold a grudge, apparently,” he muttered, staring bleakly into a coffee cup that resembled brown sludge more than the brew he’d been expecting.

“Not like you to hang around when things get hot. Why haven’t you just bolted yet?”

“The little bleaters have me under constant surveillance. And M’s restricting my movements. I’m stuck here for the duration.”

“Poor baby,” she murmured, patting his arm gently. “No wonder you look so haggard. If you need any help getting out of here, let me know. I still owe you for Damascus.”

Hughes stood up and brushed a kiss across his cheek before sauntering away. “Q and his little brats can’t hurt you if they can’t find you.”

With that last bit of sage advice, she glided toward the door. McBride watched her go thoughtfully. Her offer had seemed sincere and as far as he knew, the only agents who actively wanted to kill him were in a meeting with M. 

“You think you can do it?” He threw out the challenge before she reached the door. She glanced back at him with a smirk. 

“Baby, Q-Branch may think they have all the computer smarts, but I’ve got a few things going for me as well. Not the least of which is several minions in my pocket.”

For the first time in a week and a half, McBride actually looked hopeful. “You think they’d go against Q to help me?”

Amanda looked at him disdainfully. “They won’t help you sweetheart. Even I’ve heard about what happened and I’ve been in Australia for god’s sake. No, they won’t be doing it for you. But they’ve known me longer than they’ve known R and they still believe in loyalty. But if I do this, we’re clear on Damascus, yes?”

McBride nodded furiously. “God, yes. Just get me out of here.”

“Stick by your phone. When I text you and tell you to haul arse, you’d better move. We’ll only have one shot at this.”

Again, McBride nodded his head, looking pathetically grateful. If he hadn’t been working off of so little sleep and such hellish conditions, he would have noticed the faint smirk that crossed Hughes’ face as she exited the room.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McBride finally faces the wrath of Bond and R proves he's not a damsel in distress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter! This is by far the longest one I've written for this story. Consider it an apology for abandoning it for a month while I tried to deal with RL.

In the end, it was oddly simple. After letting McBride stew a few more days at the tender mercies of the minions, Hughes sent a text detailing the route he would need to take in order to escape. The plan was to get him out of London and then onto the A12 to Ipswich. From there, one of her contacts would smuggle him out of the country by boat to Rotterdam. After that, she would cut him loose and let him hide until M decided to ease up on his punishment.

The plan had worked beautifully. McBride had ghosted through the streets after getting out of his flat. He’d seen the cameras moving away from and had let out a brief grin as Hughes’ minion worked his magic fingers.

He’d found the car waiting right where Hughes had said and he’d slipped into it silently, nodding to Hughes who was in the driver’s seat. Taking the proffered water bottle, he cracked the seal and took a sip before leaning back into the seat with a sigh. 

“About an hour, yeah?” he asked, taking another long sip.

“More or less,” Hughes murmured as she swung out into traffic, headed toward the A12.

As McBride rubbed his eyes, he glanced at his water bottle and then at Hughes in horror, his thoughts slowing to a crawl.

“Damn it,” he cursed thickly as he tried to grab for the door handle.

“Don’t even think about it, mate,” Hughes warned as McBride tugged ineffectively at the handle. “The minions took care of that door a while ago.”

He lurched toward Hughes, intent on getting his hands around her neck, but the drugs in his system were taking their toll on his reflexes. Hughes shoved him back into his seat easily and pulled off the A12 circling back through London as McBride succumbed to the drugs she’d slipped him.

Pulling into a hanger a while later, empty with the exception of a sleek jet, the car halted before 006 and 007, who had been lounging in the middle playing cards while waiting for their mouse.

“Any problems?” Bond asked as he threw down a winning hand, ignoring a huff from beside him.

She flashed him her teeth and yanked open the car door, McBride tumbling to the ground at her feet.

“Not a one,” she said cheerfully, nudging him over with her toe.

“Well played as always, Amanda,” Alec grinned at her before reaching down to haul the unconscious 00 agent up off the ground. Between the two of them, Bond and Alec finagled the limp agent toward the stairs of the jet while Amanda patted him down, relieving him of several weapons, before dumping him into one of the plush leather seats. Alec strapped him in securely and eyed the limp body cautiously.

“Are you sure you gave him a large enough dose?”

“Relax, cupcake,” Hughes said flopping into a seat across the aisle. “He’s out for the duration. Besides,” she nudged a bag by her foot, “it’s not like there’s not more where that came from.”  
Alec shook his head. Amanda Hughes was a petite, blonde pixie-ish woman who was equally adept at crawling through air ducts as she was waltzing through a glamorous party. She could sell the London Bridge and the mark would hand over his wallet with a cheerful grin. She also had a positively lethal knowledge of pharmacology, so the mark found out he’d been duped.

Both agents glanced up and out the window as the plane slowly left the hangar and made it’s way out to the runway.

“Think he needs any help?” Alec asked casually as the plane accelerated.

“He’s the one who found the plane to begin with, I think he’s enjoying himself.” 

“You sure your minion got this cleared?” Alec’s gaze narrowed as he stood up to make his way to the bar.

“Have a little faith, Trevelyn. The minion did his job. And this one is actually competent so by the time it’s noticed, we’ll already be on the ground.”

“Anyone want to tell me why the hell I’m flying this plane to Tunisia?” Bond’s voice crackled over the PA system.

Hughes sauntered toward the front of the plane as Alec fell back into his seat, propping his feet up on McBride’s bound body. He took a sip of his brandy and settled into the casual readiness that every agent perfects.

Amanda slid into the seat next to Bond and put on a headset.

“Do I want to know where you got this plane from?” She inquired politely, running a check over the gauges in front of her.

Bond flashed her a wry grin. “What do you think?”

“Then don’t ask why we are going to Tunisia,” She replied smugly. Bond engaged the autopilot and leaned back in his seat.

“Where does R think you are right now?” Hughes asked, mimicking his pose.

“On a training run with some new recruits. The recruits know what happens if they screw up and anyone from Q-Branch finds out.” Bond looked positively evil and for a brief moment, Amanda felt a surge of pity for any recruits under Bond’s care. And then promptly squashed it. The little ankle-biters needed to learn and learn they would if they crossed Bond’s path.

“You know he’s not going to like it when he finds out what we did.” 

Bond had the good sense to look chagrined. “He only said I couldn’t permanently injure him,” he muttered staring out the front window.

“Uh huh.” 

The tone was doubtful and for good reason. Bond had yet to encounter R when he was angry and Hughes was not entirely sure what kind of fallout would occur when a covert assassin and a chief minion got angry with each other. She made a mental note to not be in the country when that happened.

Three hours after they took off, Bond landed the small jet on an unused runaway outside of Tunis, taxiing to a stop smoothly.

“Is he still unconscious?” He asked as he emerged from the cockpit. Trevelyn and Hughes had begun playing a round of poker, using the limp body of the agent as a table between them. Shaking his head at the pair, he considered his question answered and set to work lowering the stairs.

It was only a short ride to where they were going, though it felt like an eternity with the way that Hughes and Alec were bickering. Not for the first time, Bond was glad that he didn’t have any children. 00s were bad enough.

~~~~~~~~

The first thing that McBride noticed was the oppressive heat. As he pried his eyes open, the pounding his head began to increase. 

“Bloody hell,” he coughed weakly. “What the hell was in that, Hughes?” He shot a glare at the trio of agents standing in front of him before casting his eyes about the dilapidated old warehouse that Hughes had managed to secure.

The agent in question just smirked at him and twirled a syringe between her fingers. “Just be glad I administered the antidote when I did, McBride.”

McBride tugged at the restraints and shot Bond a nasty glare. “You always were good with rope, weren’t you?”

Shrugging, Bond whapped him upside the head. “Navy, remember?”

Alec suddenly reached down and grabbed a bucket by his foot, casually tossing the contents over the nude, bound agent. 

The yelp was oddly satisfying. 

“You dragged me all the way out to the middle of a fucking desert to dump ice water on me?”

“Nope,” Hughes said lightly, grabbing her own bucket and dumped the water and the bucket onto him, watching McBride wince as the frigid metal made contact with his groin. “But it’s definitely a bonus.”

“You know, I’d wondered when you were going to make your move.” He directed his gaze to Hughes, “And you, how the hell do you do it? How can you make everything sound so bloody reasonable all the time?”

The smile that Hughes shot him was more chilling than the ice had been. “Just be glad I didn’t talk you off a building, McBride. That’s still an option.”

“All this fuss over one fucking Q minion?” McBride grumbled, flexing his wrists against the ropes.

Alec punched him in the back of the head again, watching his head bounce with vicious glee. “How many times has that Q minion saved your sorry arse?”

McBride declined to comment, focusing a glare at Bond who had remained silent.

“Well? Are you going to take your pound of flesh? I’m assuming that’s why I’m here. Are you going to warn me to stay away from your precious little friend? Because believe me, I’ve already gotten that message loud and clear.”

This time, it was Hughes who landed the blow and for one so tiny, she could still do significant amount of damage when she wanted to. McBride was left reeling. 

“I asked you to see if R was afraid of the dark,” Bond suddenly said conversationally. “You threw a stun grenade at his head. He’s lucky you didn’t blind him permanently. You nearly took away his livelihood.”

Another punch was thrown at him and McBride looked up at Bond with a dazed look in his eye. “It was a accident,” he said weakly, already knowing that that argument was not going to work.

“Throwing him in the pool was an accident as well, wasn’t it?”

The silky voice washed over him and McBride repressed a shudder. Of all the 00s to be trapped in an abandoned building with, Bond was the one whom was the most dangerous. It was an acknowledged fact that not only was he a fantastic lover, but the most lethal assassin on the Queen’s payroll. The fact that he was speaking nicely seemed to only highlight the danger that McBride was in.

“You messed with family,” Alec said as Hughes slammed her fist into his ribs.

“You see, it’s not really about R at all.” She added as Bond began to add his own punches to Alec’s previous ones. McBride was looking positively colorful by this point.

“Yeah, Bond took exception to the fact that you tried to kill somebody he loved. And clearly, Alec is in this because it’s Bond and our little family tends to look out for each other. Unless you betray Queen and country, of course. “ Amanda said thoughtfully as she ‘washed’ the blood off McBride’s face with another bucket of ice water. God knows where Alec had found the hellaciously large ice chest, but it had been worth it in her opinion. 

“Then why are you in it?” McBride muttered through a bleeding lip.

“Because I trust R to have my back during missions. I trust Q-Branch to get me gear that will keep me alive through whatever hellish mission I get handed. And I trust that M will keep me out of the political line of fire as long as I remain conveniently helpful to our nation.”

She dug her knuckles into his bruised ribs and he let out an involuntary gasp. “Every time you attack a minion, every time you fuck with R or his equipment, you make it that much harder for the rest of us. Face it, McBride. The world still needs people like us, but they need people like Q and R as well. Which one do you think M is going to save if it comes down to it? The ones who know how to shoot or the ones who know how to make it look like it never happened? Hmm?”

“Well said,” a voice floated drily from behind them.

As one all four agents turned to see R leaning against the open door frame. McBride peering at him through a spectacular black eye.

“How the hell did you get there?” Bond called, his face to well-schooled to betray the slight twinge of panic that had arisen at the sight of his boyfriend.

“M sent me to make sure that McBride didn’t actually die. For some reason, he doesn’t trust you, James.” R snapped back. “He does, however, seem to think I can manage to keep you idiots under control for longer than five minutes. Don’t make me ruin my agent wrangling reputation.”

McBride snickered at the standoff but Amanda grabbed and twisted his ear to bring him back to focus on her.

“His arrival doesn’t change anything,” she warned her fingers twisting painfully.

“Actually it does,” R snarled as he came up to stand beside her. He eyed McBride coldly.

“You do realize that M was just about to send him out on a mission, didn’t you?” He asked Bond bitterly as he stepped around the bound agent. Bond shrugged noncommittally. 

“And you,” he said turning to Hughes, “you should realize that there is nothing the minions do that Q or I don’t know about. Were you really that stupid to think that the minions wouldn’t tattle?”

The agents were all suddenly making a concentrated effort to ignore the mess that was left of McBride.

“Q is erasing whatever your minion might have missed. I’ll be fabricating a report about a kidnapping that McBride suffered. Most unfortunate incident.” R let a faint grimace flash across his face. “He’s lucky that I had three dedicated agents I could send in on a retrieval.”

McBride had enough fight left in him to snort at that last comment. As he tried to struggle against the bonds again, dignity be damned, R snapped out a kick at his ribs and the man collapsed back against the chair with a cry of pain.

“Nicely done,” Alec said approvingly, moving up to clap R on the shoulder.

“I’ve told you before; I can handle myself.” R glared at Bond pointedly. “He’s still alive, which will make M deliriously happy. There were bets going around the office on whether or not he would actually die. You’ll be happy to know the minions were all betting for his imminent demise. However, Bond, we are going to have a serious talk when we get back to London.”

“Did you really need to soak him?” R demanded and he could feel the look of incredibility that Bond shot him.

“He’s fucking lucky I didn’t try to drown him.” Bond all but snarled.

“Yes, yes. We must avenge the helpless little programmer, “ R bit out. “Do you know how hard it is going to be to write a convincing story about kidnappers who wanted to drown him in the middle of a desert? I thought you were supposed to be avenging me, not forcing me to save your arse. M knew this was coming, but he’s still going to have a hell of a time explaining why 001 is off the duty roster again.”

Bond shrugged. “Not my problem. Not yours. M’s a big boy, he’ll figure it out. We just wanted to make sure he knew not to mess with you again.”

“Or any of Q-branch, for that matter,” Alec tossed up helpfully. He subsided quickly when R snarled softly. 

Bond moved in to wrap his arms around R’s waist but furrowed his brow in confusion when R moved away with a glare. Hughes watched them with a careful look. R was clearly pissed off at Bond, and for once Bond was not using the gifts beaten into him by their elite training to figure that out. 

Feeling Alec moving behind her, both she and the other agent began to slink toward the door leading out to their suv as R’s ire began to grow. While they could physically overpower the slight computer programmer, doing so would piss off Bond, and they’d already seen what the rest of MI6 would do. R had also been taking lessons from Q and M on the art of tongue-lashing and from the sound of it, receiving high marks.

“Don’t even think about it.” R snapped spinning to stare at the other two accomplices. “You two are equally responsible in this. You are damn lucky I’m keeping this off the record logs, which means M can’t officially punish you.”

Hughes and Alec shared a look before turning back with a sheepish look on their faces. “We just wanted to make sure he learned his lesson.”

“And he will be able to contemplate it all the way back to London. Let’s go.”

R’s face was furious and Alec quickly moved to untie McBride.

“Leave him.” R barked. He pulled out a tactical knife from his pocket and held it up so McBride could see. It hadn’t taken him long to regain consciousness. While Hughes, Bond, and Trevelyn had littered him with bruises and he would be sore for days, they hadn’t actually caused a significant amount of damage, for a change.

“You like fun, don’t you McBride? Jokes, games, and all that?”

McBride looked at him suspiciously.

“Your service record says you are creative. Let’s see how creative you can get.”

R set the knife down in front of the bound agent and spun away. “Report to London as soon as possible, 001.”

Stalking out of the abandoned house, R jerked the door to the stolen suv and climbed into the driver’s seat. Tapping his fingers impatiently against the wheel, he stared stonily out the front window as the remaining three agents made it into the car.

“You’re really going to leave him here?” Hughes asked suspiciously. R glared at her through the review mirror.

“Naked, soaked, and in the middle of the desert, 005. I’m surprised you care, that’s what you had planned for him all along, wasn’t it?” His voice was sharp but Hughes just brushed it off. 

“Well yes, but I didn’t think you had it in you, kid.” Hughes let a bit of approval slide into her voice. 

“Oh I’m just full of surprises,” R bit out, ignoring Bond who glanced at him worriedly. Hughes saw the look and smirked. Bond was finally beginning to understand that they just might have screwed up. This was precisely why she stayed out of committed relationships. However, she was glad that Bond was going to take the heat for this and not her. The minions were devious, but they were nothing compared to R and Q when they got it in their head to be evil.


End file.
